State of Undress
by lezonne
Summary: Hermione finds herself in a horrible situation when the obsessive Draco Malfoy kidnaps her during the summer and twists Hogwarts laws to have her removed from Gryffindor. But why does he heal her each time he punishes her? Dark, written on request.
1. Chapter 1

**A/n:** My fourth request story :) This requester wanted an obsessive Draco, dark story, Luna with Harry, and Hermione in Slytherin and attached to the Death Eaters. I like dark so it's right up my alley! This will be a three part saga, so look for it. Next two chapters will be up in the next two weeks, and may or may not be longer than this. Hope you enjoy :) Thanks to my beta **JDeppIsMyLovely**!

**Disclaimer: **It all belongs to Rowling.

This idea was given to me by **Lu Lu-Chan25** and written on request.

* * *

If looks could kill, Draco Malfoy would be a thousand times dead already. It was all his fault that she was forced to learn a different pattern of life, taken from her family and friends and thrown onto the opposite side of the spectrum. Oh she hated him, and the day he stopped paying attention would be the end of him. She just had to wait it out.

The summer before her seventh year had not gone as planned. Hermione had all the intentions of sending her parents off to safety before joining up with Harry and Ron at the Burrow to begin Horcrux hunting. That had seemed like a simple enough plan, and it would've succeeded too if it was not for the blonde bastard who stopped the plan midway.

She could hex the prat to hell and back and it would not ease her fury. Because of him life had changed, changed in a way that made things nearly impossible to bear. It was because of him that her friends thought she was dead, only to receive the rude awakening of reality via a letter days after the beginning of term when Ginny Weasley would unravel the fake truth. She did not need a letter to know she was being shunned by all of those she had once called _friends._

And it was _all his fault._

Being captured during the summer was one thing, but the events that followed were another nightmare entirely. She did not expect her captor to be someone she had gone to school with, nor did she expect to find the purely vicious look in his eyes the first time he allowed her to see. The scared, pathetic child who had once been Draco Malfoy had disappeared that summer, and had been replaced by a mindless killing machine. One look into those dead silver eyes would make your blood turn cold. She had hated looking up at him that first time, but she really hated how he treated her the most.

"_Easy pet," he cooed, leaning down to breathe in her ear, as though his suffocating proximity of his body hovering over her form wasn't disturbing enough, "Don't cry now, don't scream. That will just make my Lord angry. Shh now, all be make sense soon."_

Nothing made sense. Hours of torment from both Death Eaters and Voldemort himself did not open her eyes to what she was supposedly missing. She did not understand what the blonde meant, and after slipping into unconsciousness that first night she had no idea that she would awaken in a different kind of hell. For indeed, her journey was nowhere near over.

But Hermione didn't like to think about the summer, or the train ride to the bleak school that was once lively and joyous under Dumbledore's reign- a reign ended by the new Headmaster and the very bastard that had brought her to Voldemort. Being kept within sight of Draco Malfoy was disturbing, but she had learned early on that there was no escape from the blonde menace. Whenever he lost sight of her on the train ride to school, one of his twisted Slytherin classmates would snatch her up and bring her back to his compartment. She wished the students watching would realize something was terribly amiss and speak up- but alas, no one did, for even those who were not directly connected to the Order knew that most of Slytherin House had ties to the Dark Lord and they dared not interfere with people like that. She was left all alone.

Perhaps the feast was the worst part of her segregation. She knew that Snape and Malfoy were close- Goddamnit, Draco was his godson for Merlin's sake- but she had never imagined that the Head of Hogwarts would twist things into the blond's advantage as much as he did. For when she tried to part ways with the blonde at the doors of the Great Hall that first day back to school, he snatched her back and forced her to walk to Slytherin.

"What do you think you are doing pet? You are no Gryffindor anymore."

The confused and concerned stares that followed her lithe body across the hall felt suffocating and for the first time in her life Hermione did not want to hold her head up high- but Malfoy's grip on her arm was persistent, and she dared not look at the floor and give him and excuse to squeeze harder. She couldn't look towards Gryffindor and see the looks of betrayal she knew were being thrown her way- it would be too hard to bear.

Anyone in Slytherin who did not understand her relocation soon found out with the rest of the school why she was being placed where she was. Honestly, she assumed Snape and Malfoy could come up with a better lie than _House Unity_ but what did she expect? From her knowledge, Draco's request to have her house switched had only gotten to Snape mere days before school started again. Obviously there was a deeper meaning to why she was being changed than anyone was letting on if such a short term request had gotten approved and switched so quickly.

But the biggest problem for Hermione currently, as her first day of her last year at Hogwarts came to a close, was hearing Malfoy say those daunting words like usual.

"Come," he whispered as they headed down to the Slytherin common room No one said anything to him as he grabbed her hand and hauled her over to the male dormitories, before scooping her up unceremoniously and carrying her up the steps. Crabbe and Goyle got the message that they were not invited to play with the new roommate and got out of the room once they entered. He threw her on the bed as the door clicked shut, undoing his cloak.

"Will you comply tonight pet," he asked tiredly, dropping his cloak onto the only chair in the door. "Or will you be as difficult as usual?"

She didn't reply, only turned her head to the side, and immediately his chuckle echoed throughout the room. "Ignoring me never works Mudblood; you know that. It is my job to do this, to question, and I would be a liar if I said it cannot be fun at times."

_Yes… fun, in that twisted little sadistic mind of yours Malfoy._

He waved his wand, immobilizing her as he gathered what he needed. When he had everything, he came back to the bed and forced her to look up.

"You could make it so much easier on yourself pet, if you would only tell me what I need to get from you." He was setting the pieces down now, biding his time before he hurt her again.

She pressed her lips firmly together, refusing to respond. The moment she started talking to him was the moment that she accepted that all of this horror was real.

He sighed. "Very well, if you must be so difficult." Lifting the hem of her shirt out of the top of her skirt, he undid the buttons until her chest was bare to him, the upper half hidden only by a thin, worn bra. He hated this part of the day.

Picking up his wand and the one medal rod, he used a heating charm to warm the rod until it was burning. "I don't have to always hurt you pet. Why do you put yourself through this?"

Silence. He gave her a moment to respond before placing the hot medal on her skin, closing his eyes as it burned her flesh. She whimpered, but it had been weeks since she screamed outright. Time and time again he went through the same type of agonizing punishment, yet she never caved. Sometimes he wished she would.

"Where have Potter and Weasley gone," he asked, his tone void of emotion. She opened her eyes and glared up at him, but offered no response. Moving the burning stick to a different section of her torso, he repeated the process with a different question.

He burned her seven more times, as usual. She never gave an answer, but if his Lord found out he was not harming the girl every night as instructed, she would be removed to the care of another Death Eater where worse punishments awaited her. He cooled the rod and replaced it by the fire before turning back to her.

She closed her eyes this time. This was the part that always disturbed her more than anything else ever did. Cool lips came to rest on the burnt flesh, and she inhaled sharply as this madman again kissed away the burns. Going against orders, he trailed his lips across each wound, chanting soft words she had never been able to make out as he went. Wand aimed, the wounds would slowly close themselves until there was nothing left of the destruction he wreaked on her body each day.

She hated that he thought he could erase her pain through simple spells. The wounds ran deeper than her skin, but those were the type of marks he could never heal. The binds on her body removed themselves, and she scrambled off the bed, hoping to get out the door before he could speak.

"Stay," he muttered, just as she reached the door. She had half a mind to ignore him, but knew that he would only pursue her. She was in a nest of snakes, and they would all side with him before they gave a thought to her. Running was futile.

Strong arms locked around her upper body, still half clothed. They pulled her back into a toned body, one which had shed its shirt. "Remove this," he demanded, tugging at her over shirt. She knew he wouldn't go too far, for he never did, and shed her uniform top as well, the tie still dangling around her neck.

He was pulling on her arm now. "Come." She let him drag her back to the bed without any assistance, pulling her onto the massive bed with him. He removed the skirt next, leaving her in nothing but her undergarments.

"Your roommates will notice my presence," she snapped. It was the first thing she had said since arriving.

He smoothed her hair down, pulling her into his body once more. She could feel him closer to her body now, and knew he was in the same state of undress as she was. They always were those days.

"I know," he breathed, running light fingers over her skin. "If they are smart, they shall mind their eyes."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/n:** A longer chapter this time for part two. Part three will be a bit lengthier than chapter one as well. We are two-thirds of the way done. There is a beta for this story now so big thanks to **JDeppIsMyLovely**!

* * *

Eventually, the tasks set before Hermione began to act like a needle; meaningless things like eating or walking to class put a hitch in her side and she slowly began to feel like her very existence was begin sucked out of her, a little bit at a time. Malfoy paid no mind to her sudden change in attitude, for he was still too lost in the patterns he could leave on her skin with burnt medal and replicate with his lips. She had once thought him a monster and the devil for stealing her away, but now she only saw a madman. Who grew lustful over kissing away the blood from another's body?

She found that the days were slowly beginning to meld together. No matter how she tried to contact any of her Gryffindor friends, there was forever something standing in her way. When it came to notes, it was but the cruel burning that rocketed through her body whenever she wrote Harry or Ron's names, for the Dark Lord would not have her betraying him and confiding in her friends. Every precaution had been taken to ensure her silence as Malfoy continued to punish her, looking for clues and answers.

In the hallways, she often watched the floor, for there was no reason to look up. She either saw the angry faces of those who now believed her a traitor, or the amused faces of Slytherins who were in on the joke. During meals she dared not glance up from her food and accidently lock eyes with the wilted, sad orbs of Ginny Weasley for a second time. The first time their gazes had met had been like a hailstorm, a tornado of emotions that could not get out and would never be voiced. But for the most part, it was like putting a gate up between Hermione and the rest of her world, for when the girl who was supposedly her dearest friend stood pointedly and flipped her off, she knew she was alone.

Harry and Ron- who for a while were under the impression like everyone else that she was dead, all because of a vile, fake note Malfoy crafted- tried to owl her repeatedly in the days following the beginning of school. But Malfoy took a blade to the neck of every bird and tossed the carcass out the window, burning the letters before her very eyes. No amount of bartering would cause him to change his mind and allow her to reply to them, for that would go against orders. And to go against orders would mean that he was throwing away his mother's safety, and the blonde would never trade Hermione for his own flesh and blood.

She just had to hope that at some point these relentless bandits would slip, and she would find a way to talk to someone- _anyone_- and explain her absence. She had to let Harry and Ron- and even Ginny- know what was really happening and that she was not willingly going to the dark side. Didn't they know her better than that?

The days drifted on, and she continued to sleep in Malfoy's bed at night, clad in little, with his inept friends leering at her when they thought he wouldn't notice. They wouldn't get away with anything though, for she was always within the bastards reach these days, and he watched her with an unusually careful eye.

Entering the second month of school Hermione found herself in the usual position on Malfoy's bed, fastened down with nowhere to go while the git undid her blouse bit by bit. It always unnerved her how his nimble fingers could disrobe her without the assistance of his eyes, which had recently taken to watching hers while he did so, as though searching for a response. The room was barren of guests again- as he always persisted it be- and round silver balls were looking down at her again.

"You put yourself through so much pet, for people who hate you now. They must think you are betraying them."

"Or hexed," she seethed, closing her eyes. She never held his gaze, for that was what the git desired. "Perhaps if you did not murder every owl that came to your window seeking me then perhaps they would see me differently."

He clicked his tongue. "If only Mudblood," he whispered, fingering the cups of her bra. Her eyes squeezed tighter, her body trying to shy away from his touch. She hated when his hands strayed. "But allowing you contact would be bad for me."

"Yes, and we can't have that can we," she mocked, turning her head to one side. His fingers ghosted over the tops of her breasts for a moment, and she inhaled sharply. This was new.

Long fingers continued their pattern, drawing meaningless designs over the exposed halves of her tits, daring to sink down into the dip of her cleavage. She bit her lip, suppressing the urge to scream at him. He had never really touched her before, never wanted to soil himself with her flesh. What was the difference now?

One stray finger attempted to flee from the rest, taking a chance by sliding beneath the fabric of the bra to touch hidden skin. She found this quite violating and wiped her head back up. "Bastard! Get your hands off me!"

A bemused smile passed over his lips, and he retracted his hands. "I always knew you had a voice pet. I was beginning to miss it."

"You despicable-"

"Ah," he said, holding up a finger, "We will have no backtalk. I was merely making sure that all of your vocal cords still worked. Now, roll over."

"Get away from me Malfoy," she seethed, unable to get over his brief attack on her body.

With a roll of his eyes, he set down the cool rod and his wand, before bending over her to grasp both her shoulders. In one fluid, effortless motion, he had her flipped on her stomach. The sound of shredding material above her told her he was destroying her shirt.

"Stop that!"

"Sorry pet, but you're being a bit of a pain tonight. First you refuse to speak in long spurts for weeks, then you have the audacity to call me a bastard, and now you will not comply to move. Let it be a lesson."

She wanted to point out that none of her actions would be necessary if he would only leave her be, but the burn of hot medal had her slamming her eyes shut for a second time. It was not unusual for him to burn other areas aside from the front of her torso, but she secretly thanked Merlin that he was human enough to stay away from the private areas of her body. If he burned those, she honestly doubted she could repress a scream.

He was on burn seven of the usual nine when it happened. The door to the dormitory opened and the blonde spun around immediately to glare at the arrivals, dragging the hot stick down her side as he went. She whimpered, but just then he could pay her no mind.

"Crabbe! Goyle! Get the bloody fuck out of here this instant!" He watched his bodyguards pause in their steps as the realized what was going on in the space. It should've been obvious, since he took over the dorm for exactly an hour and a half each night to perform the same ritual. But it was Crabbe who spoke first.

"Having fun," he asked, glancing past the blonde's shoulder. Granger looked mighty pretty bound to the git's bed on her stomach, her feet just barely dangling off the edge. The ripped shirt and multiple burns would leave different thoughts in the minds of those who were unaware of what Malfoy had been instructed to do to her. But what Vincent found most interesting was the girl's eyes now that she had turned to look at the intruders. They were dark, as though she was suppressing anger, but he got a different message. Surrounded by three dangerous, rather cold-hearted Slytherins while behind bound to a bed was not the ideal situation for someone like Granger to find herself in, and he liked to think that the emptiness in her eyes was simply a well-constructed mask to hide her true fear.

"I said out," the blonde repeated, his eyes flipping between the two men. They had a hungry gleam in their eye that was not at all appreciated.

Goyle from his position, had taken to eyeing the former Gryffindor as well. But he was not looking at the curve of her body. "Have you only just begun? She looks pretty healthy to have been receiving the same punishment for a month."

Draco blanched, having not expected Goyle of all people to pick up on the lack of scars on her body. It was no secret that he was not supposed to heal her, but since he was the only person performing the tasks, no one ever had to know that he faked a few things sometimes.

"In the hall," he deadpanned, "Now. We need to talk." The blokes exchanged a look, but a soft jab from their _leader_ with that hot stick had them reluctantly turning away.

Malfoy didn't waste a moment cooling the rod before he dropped it to the floor. He flicked his wand and the invisible binds holding his pet to the bed let up, allowing her to tumble off the side, attempting to clasp her ruined shirt over the exposed flesh.

Knowing that the gits would not wait long for him to come along, he grabbed her hair, forcing her to look at him. "Get in bed, and don't go anywhere. I will return in a few minutes to finish this." Over her shoulder, he could see the blood running down her back and cringed. Now his sheets really would be tarnished.

Through whatever pain he knew was raking up her body, she raised her head and glared up at him. "Give me my wand. Your fucking Lord may have put spells on it to restrict me from doing certain things, but at least give me the _privilege _to heal myself."

He could only gaze down at her sadly, before snatching ahold of one of her arms and dragging her onto the bed where he threw a blanket over the top half of her. "That is one of the restrictions pet." He ghosted a hand over her temple for a moment. "Now stay, I'll be back soon."

Turning, he did not need to glance back to know she was glaring at him from her spot on the bed, nor that she was probably blushing as the brutes in the doorway ran their eyes over a body that was now hidden. He was glad they could not see the curves that he often looked upon.

In the hallway however, a tranquil calm could not be achieved. "Are you both batty," he asked, clocking the two men in the head. When they had been towering giants compared to his slim frame just a few years before, he now matched them in height. They no longer had that daunting advantage over him. "You can't just come in while I'm working!"

"It didn't look like work though," Goyle pointed out with a tilt of his head. "There aren't nearly enough marks on her for you to have been doing a very good job for our Lord."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I can't just have her wandering around like a rag doll you know. Someone might see something, might suspect. It's hard enough selling the idea to the school that she was moved to Slytherin for some bullshit House Unity. And with the lot of you bloody followers doing nothing to assist me I have to take precautionary measures to save my skin. I'm constantly seen with her. People will pinpoint me as the abuser in no time and then we will all be in a tight situation."

The two exchanged a look. "Well, we could walk her around sometimes," Crabbe said with a shrug. "That way you really can harm her."

"No you oaf, then I am breaking the rules our Lord carefully set up." Malfoy rubbed his head. "Keep this between us."

Goyle crossed his arms. "Why should we? What is in this for us Draco?"

He rolled his eyes. "Well, what would you blokes want?" The pair exchanged a look, and he could easily guess what was flowing through their minds. "Out of the question!"

"You're supposed to be breaking her though," Vincent said, rubbing his head. "We could help-"

"I'm doing this on my own," he snapped.

"But-"

"Shh," the blonde said suddenly, cutting his friend off. He glanced around, eyes narrowing.

"What," Gregory asked, finally speaking up again.

"This hallway has ears," he hissed, before looking back at the door. "We will discuss this in the room, but you will give me a moment to remove Granger."

"You have to finish though," Greg said again.

"It appears I will have to finish later," he hissed, glaring at the two. "Now wait here a moment or go down to the common room, whichever fits your fancy. Granger will not be present during this discussion."

The blokes exchanged another glance. "If you say so," Crabbe grumbled, before they began to wander off. He was glad to see them go, but afraid of whom they might speak with in the common room. Zabini and Nott were down there, and they had a knack for extracting information from a person when they desired. He had better hurry.

Inside the room Granger had remained in much the same position as before. She glared at the blonde as he made his way over. "You are lucky today pet, for I cannot finish this right now." He pulled the blanket back none to carefully, and found that some of the blood had begun to stick. She whimpered quietly as he removed the fabric from her open wounds. She was ever so good about suppressing pain.

He didn't have the time for much of the usual ritual. He used his wand this time to remove the gashes, all except one. The wound he had burned over the area where her heart would be he healed with his lips as well, chanting the same words softly. When he was done he fetched her a garment from the wardrobe, and she was not very thankful for his thoughtfulness.

"If I go downstairs in your shirt Malfoy people will think we are sleeping together."

He rolled his eyes, holding the shirt out for a second time. "People already think that's what I do to you Mudblood, this would make no difference." Tossing the shirt to her, he watched without amusement as her face paled. "Dress. I will shrink it to your size."

She did as she was told, thankful that she had the cover of fabric again. He fitted the material to her body maybe a bit too tight, but she wasn't going to complain. Snatching up her wand, she hurried for the door.

"And pet?"

Stalling at the door, she resisted the urge to tell him to fuck himself. The sooner he spat out what he was going to say the faster she could leave. "I expect you to be at the bottom of the stairs at nine tonight. You do have to complete the ritual I'm afraid, and I need a sleeping partner."

"Yes," she hissed, throwing the door open. "I'll see you tonight then Malfoy."

"Yes, you will."

* * *

Hermione couldn't remember a time when she had run so long before. She wanted to put space between herself and that bastard, even if it only lasted a few hours. She found a secluded place and beat at the walls, plants and everything she could out of frustration. He could control her, and she was helpless to do anything about it. And what was worse? Feeling the bastards lips on her very skin was too disturbing for her to consider!

She hated him so very much. She wanted out of his control, but every precaution had been taken to ensure she couldn't spill her secrets. And damn it, if she only could she would be up in Gryffindor by now telling Ginny and Neville all about it before owling Harry. But things just weren't that easy. After fighting with everything, she collapsed in defeat.

"Hello Hermione," said a voice that nearly made her heart jump from her hardly covered chest. Sitting up, she locked eyes with one Luna Lovegood.

"Hi Luna," she replied, surprised the Ravenclaw would speak to her after everything. She expected Luna to be like Ginny and Neville, and turn her back on her because things seemed horrible. But then, she really hadn't gotten the chance to speak with anyone when Malfoy wasn't around. This was the first time.

The blonde came to sit beside her. "This is a strange place to be angry; it's such a calming room."

She blushed. "You saw my outburst?"

Leaning in, Luna whispered in her ear, "I heard breaking and came to investigate. We have to watch Hogwarts while Harry and Ron are away." She leaned back, studying her friend once more. "That's why you are in Slytherin, aren't you? You're spying for them?"

That practically knocked Hermione to the floor. How could Luna think that? Sure, she hadn't been expected to meet up at the Weasley's over the summer, but she wasn't stupid. "No, I'm not spying," she replied quietly.

"Well you haven't switched sides either or you wouldn't be talking to me. If you were bad, you would be trying to curse me."

"You think that?"

"It's just what I know of you; you are not kind to your enemies. And Malfoy is an enemy. You must hate living in that house."

"Yes."

"You should go back to Gryffindor; your housemates are really upset. They don't understand why you won't reply to anyone."

Hermione just shook her head at that, helpless to answer. She could reveal nothing.

The blonde's eyebrows rose. "Are there Wrackspurts in your ears?" Thrown by her comment, she sat silently as Luna surveyed both of her ears. It had to be yet another of those crazy creatures she always mentioned.

When she finally decided there were no Wrackspurts in Hermione's ears, she sat back. "There's nothing boggling your head Hermione. Why do you act so strangely? Something is wrong."

She pressed her lips together saying nothing. Luna was bright, but she doubted the airy girl would ever get to the right result.

Slowly, Lovegood's eyes widened. "You're with them against your will, aren't you?" Her silence and downcast eyes were enough of a reply. "That's why you do not talk to us, because something is wrong. I should've listened for Wrackspurts sooner! You're not yourself at all." She scooted closer, holding eye contact with her friend the whole way.

"Does he hurt you- Malfoy I mean?" She pursed her lips but gave no reply, and the blonde sighed. Her arms came to rest and then tighter around her friend.

"Don't you worry Hermione, I have a brief idea what's going on now. I'll be sure to let the others know; Ron and Harry won't let it stand." The brunette wanted to protest, but it was weak. The very idea that someone had finally picked up on her stress was relieving, and she hugged her friend tightly. For right now, she was her only friend.

* * *

"Don't worry pet," he whispered that night, the two of them stripped down to their undergarments once again, "They will not bother you again."

"The curtains are drawn tonight," she noted dully. Usually the blonde let his friends see who shared his bed, who he had control over.

"Boundaries needed to be set," he replied simply, stroking her cheek. "They can't hear us in here; no one will bother you."

_Except you. _"I gathered as much."

He continued to lightly touch her skin. "They will not come in ever again when you are so bare and open. I'll make sure of it."

_So will I Malfoy. If Luna follows through with whatever plan she has, you're never going to touch me again._


	3. Chapter 3

**A/n:** Last chapter here so review up and let me know your thoughts! As always, thanks to my amazing beta **JDeppIsMyLovely** and to the person who requested this story and gave me the idea to begin with, **Lu Lu-Chan25**! Note: There is a possibility that more chapters will be posted as continuations over time but the request story itself ends here. No more chapters are guaranteed or guaranteed in any length of time but it's a possibility. Please remember that and leave a review, even though I'm quite late.

* * *

Days passed and nothing changed. Hermione began to wonder if Luna had done anything at all. Her former friends still gave her the cold shoulder except the strange blonde girl, and thus far she had barely spoken to her. Malfoy was a constant leech to her side, watching her with hawk-like eyes. It was as though he was uneasy those last few days, but she couldn't place why. There were a few times- minimal as they were- that the Death Eater did not haunt her shadow, and it was during those times that her thoughts began to stray. He stayed so close most of the time in order to guard her, so why did he occasionally stray away? Never did he lock her up alone in the dorm while he went about his business, so she did not understand what he was hiding. Obviously, it was something important else he would drag her along. She knew so much about Death Eaters by then that she was bound to keep a secret that no one danced around her when discussing information.

But she was still curious. And curiosity was dangerous in her situation. Often during his interrogation of her she would dare to speak up about anything that came to mind, and there were now one or two bleeding marks that had yet to be healed. He got angry whenever she challenged his dominance over her, and last night the layers of protection had been swept away when he forced her to sleep nude at his side, the curtains drawn again. Even if the other blokes couldn't see her, she felt like too many eyes were watching her. In that moment she had been at the mercy of someone who had full control over her, could've take her forcefully if he so desired, yet he only slept soundly at her side. Why?

Her life was still very lonely. Luna didn't shove her away, but nor did she speak to her. Although she had more freedom to wander in the last few days, he still set an exact time for her to return. And she always did, though she never gave him anything more than a cold stare. He still watched her with calculating eyes, eyes that she couldn't understand. He never let on about anything, but she knew that he had to slip up at some point and that would be when she discovered what had him acting so differently so suddenly.

As the days wore on, she began to doubt that anything would be done about her situation. Had Luna's plan been a failure? Was she doomed to be enslaved to one Draco Malfoy until his death- or hers? That was a fate she certainly would not live with.

She needed Harry and Ron more than ever. War was so close though, and she knew there would be no time to bother them. The defeat of an evil dark master was far more important than whether or not she was enslaved to the blonde bastard. Even if she had to remain like this throughout the war, she had to hope that someday an opportunity would come when she could escape. It had only been a little while since she ended up stuck, but already there was so little hope left in her. It was as though Malfoy was slowly sucking her whole existence out of her, and it only got worse each night he forced her to share his bed.

It was going to be a long time until she knew freedom again.

* * *

The changes happened slowly, like the introduction to a movie. The days had not been different since she spoke to Luna, but this day she noticed change. Walking to her classes she could spot her former friends watching, whispering from the corner of her eye. Were they talking about her again, or was she simply in the wrong place at the wrong time? Perhaps she wouldn't have given it much thought at all if she did not see them peaking at her as she passed, or if they had been sneakier when the same series of events happened later that day at dinner.

How peculiar.

She did not seem to be the only one who noticed the behavioral traits that night, and at her side she could feel Malfoy tensing up. He beckoned for her to come with him, and reluctantly she followed him from the Great Hall, only glancing back once at the Gryffindor table.

Her eyes met Ginny's for a single moment and only one emotion could be portrayed within those depths; terror.

They did not speak until he had her in the room, the door secured and locked with too many spells to count. "Have you been talking to them," he snarled, locking two very strong hands around her arms.

"How could I," she snapped in return, flinching as he pulled her closer, finding one of the numerous marks on her body and applying pressure there, "There is nothing I could have told them. You made sure of it. Perhaps they just wonder why I linger in your presence."

He shoved her back on the bed, and she let herself hit the sheets. He did not join her, and she remained staring at the ceiling as he began to pace. He was angry, and she could feel his aggravation with each stomp he took.

"You're being a bitch tonight," he muttered, running long fingers through his hair. Though he wasn't looking at her he knew she was trying to ignore him. "Listen to me." _As though she had a choice_. "Do not look at them- ever!"

"That's hard to do Malfoy," she snapped, rolling her eyes. "There are plenty of times I may accidently look at one of them- like if they round a corner for instance."

Slowly, his form appeared in her peripheral vision, and she could see the irritation etched in his features. "I thought you would stop having this much to say by now. Mudblood, don't you understand that your words do nothing to me? Your sarcasm only seeks to cause you more harm."

"Yes," she muttered, "More bloody marks that you will just kiss away when our session is through."

Draco groaned, stepping away again. He walked across the room to a bookcase, pulling from his small contribution a book that none of the other boys gave a glance to. That was the entire point of the books bland cover and lame title. He did not open it, for he did not want her to see the contents, but even just staring at it had his anger blazing once more.

"I know you spoke to one of them about what has been going on between us- at least to some extent."

From her position on the bed, Hermione frowned. She had spoken with Luna, but however would he know that? She wasn't even in Gryffindor, so she doubted that the blonde would even normally consider her. "Like I said, I don't know why you think this since you made it impossible for me to do anything."

He chuckled. "I know pet, I have made things rather difficult for you, haven't I?" Keeping the book, he walked back to the bed and sat on the edge where she rightly refused to look at him. "I only do it because I have to, sweet."

"You only do it because you are a puppet in a big game." She noticed his arm tense, and she truly wondered if he would actually hit her. Nothing happened though, and she decided he was either fantastic at controlling himself or she hadn't hit the right nerve.

"I only do what suits me," he snapped, gripping her wrist. "No matter what my bloody Lord orders, I only follow through with what I want to at the end of the day."

She frowned, wondering what exactly he meant. Ever elusive, she couldn't quite follow his meaning. Her eyes trailed to the book in his grasp, wondering why he thought it necessary to bring her up there. He wasn't making any sense, and all she could do was sit and wait. Whatever his reasoning was remained a mystery to her.

"Why are we up here? I've told no one about this bloody situation, so what do you expect me to tell you? I have nothing to reveal to you."

Cold eyes met her own. "You must have told someone. I know you let details slide to someone, somehow."

"Why? What makes you think that Malfoy?"

He stood, refusing to meet her eyes. That book remained firmly in his grasp. "Forget it Mudblood. Undress now pet, I need to rest."

The demand was cold and dead, just like everything else he usually said to her. She glared into his back as he stepped away, before dragging herself off the bed to remove the uniform. She wanted nothing more than to strangle his thin, pale neck at that moment, but his grip on her kept her from doing so.

As they lay down, she noted that he left the curtain open. Hands came to lock on her breasts, an uncomfortable hold that he had been using more frequently when resting. She clenched her hands and refused to say anything when he told her to sleep. The only good thing that came from the entire situation was that their undergarments remained intact. She didn't enjoy it when the whole of his lean body lay flush against her own.

* * *

The next several hours were a blur in her mind. Although she thought that she needed to wake up due to noise at some point, she continued to dream on. It was nearly five hours later after all classes were over and darkness had come that she finally opened her eyes.

The dorm was in disarray. It looked like someone had tripped- or shoved- a chest onto the floor, and the contents were spilling out. She cringed at the broken bottles and clothing, now soaked in alcohol. But the biggest thing that stood out to her was that she was utterly alone. Malfoy was nowhere to be seen, and she didn't hear anything in the bathroom. He had really left her there without commands? That had never happened before.

Taking advantage of the situation, she dressed quickly and checked again. Literally no one was there, and checking the time she realized it was nearly ten. Why he had decided to leave her be was beyond her, but she wouldn't be arguing. Until he came to find her again, she could probably go wherever she pleased. The thought was intriguing and hurried to get out.

Something by the door caught her eye. There was that book again, left closed and unguarded. The very book he had seemed entranced and angered by on more than on occasion. This was the book that seemed to be just as important to him as she sometimes was. Picking it up, she smirked. What kind of secrets did he hide here?

_He will gut you if he finds out you touched something of his without permission. _

_Like I really care._

Flipping the book open, she was surprised to see multiple letters tumble out. Checking the title, she frowned. _The History of Malfoy Manor_ was not nearly as interesting as the hidden envelopes by any means, and she replaced the book to pick up the mail. Walking back to his bed, she put them back into an orderly manner before picking up the first one. It was addressed to Malfoy, as expected. Flipping it open, she was alarmed and pleased by what she read;

_Malfoy~_

_You bastard! I've heard that you have Hermione. I thought she was dead. What are you doing to her? Why is she with you? You can't just keep her captive!_

The letter covered the entire front and back of the parchment. It was from Harry of all people, venting to Malfoy about her situation. Hermione's conversation with Luna came back into her mind, and her eyes widened a fraction. Could this be the plan the strange blonde had been planning?

There was no way for her to know if he had responded to the angry message, but discarding the letter quickly she picked up another. Same recipient, same sender. It covered the same basis, only toyed with the idea of bartering. She didn't understand why Harry would jeopardize the success of the Horcux mission simply to save her, nor did she think it was smart to try and barter with the thick headed twat.

There were ten in all. Each letter consisted of more confusing information than the last. Through the responses, she nearly got the sense that Harry was somehow setting up an unspoken plan with Malfoy. But why would he do that? Malfoy was an alleged Death Eater and tightly connected with the dark lord himself, so the only bartering piece would be Harry himself, and this she couldn't allow. The fate of the magical world was not worth her freedom.

By the end, she didn't fully understand. No deal could ever be set up between the two, so why bother mentioning it? And why did it seem that the letters had only started coming through recently? If it wasn't for Luna, then how would Harry or Ron know where she was? As they had said, they assumed she was dead. Hermione expected owls to be limited with such a mission resting on their shoulders, and it was obvious now that no one had bothered to alert the pair until recently that she hadn't been killed the past summer. More than ever, she wanted to question the blonde.

The handle to the door turned and her heart stopped. Her head snapped up in time to see Malfoy come through the door, Crabbe, Goyle and Zabini behind him. His eyebrows shot up as he caught sight of what she was doing.

In a moment, she was thrown off the bed onto her back, the blonde whisking the letters up with a flick of his wand. Livid eyes watched her through slits, the form of his Italian friend appearing over his shoulder.

"Discipline is a major part of slavery Draco," he drawled, smirking down at Hermione. But in her opinion it didn't seem that he was even listening.

"Bathroom, now," he growled, going to kick her. Weeks of dealing with his temperamental behavior had sharpened her reflexes and she was up before his shoe could connect with her side. Without a word, she hurried to the bathroom with Draco following a step behind. The bathroom door slammed shut a moment later, leaving the pair to argue in the cramped space.

He had a thoroughly rough grip on her shoulders before anything could be said. "What did you read," he hissed, getting near her face. She didn't let his angry demur deter her confidence, and she looked him in the eyes when she finally responded.

"Why are you talking to Harry," she asked quietly, daring to both ask a forbidden question as well as ignore answering him.

He shoved her, and she stumbled back. She tripped over the edge of the tub, slamming her head on the wall behind her. Through her blurred vision she glared up at him, surprised when the stone expression softened just a hair. She shoved her hair away from her face pulling her legs into the bathtub so she could attempt to stand up. She'd be damned before he helped her up.

Today though, help was not offered. She was forced to struggle to stand on her own, his piercing eyes watching her the entire time. It was only when she stepped over the obstacle and moved to shove past him that he caught her arm gently, his other hand reaching back to cradle her head. Elegant fingers ran over her scalp- tangled in her mass of hair- searching. They came to rest on the new bump on her head and remained there.

"Let go," she snapped, in no mood to deal with his mixed signals. One minute he was hurting her, the next he was showing concern. She didn't understand his logic, and didn't care to.

"I hurt you," he deadpanned, stating a fact. She felt heat radiating off his hand, and a moment later the painful bump disappeared. She swatted his arm away as he retracted his hand, but he caught her wrist. "Easy, pet."

She stepped away from him, crossing her arms. "What do you want Malfoy? If you won't answer my questions then leave me be. Can I go on my way now?"

He shook his head once. "I'm afraid not pet. You've been prying." He pulled at the sleeve of his shirt, and she noted that the cufflink and the majority of his hand was stained in dried blood. Now just how did she miss that?

"Looks like you've been fighting," she commented, crossing her arms. He glanced down at the mess of his skin, but barely paid it any mind.

"I have to protect what is mine. You will do well to understand this."

"And what does that mean," she asked, narrowing her eyes. But he only shook his head, holding one hand out to the door.

"Go back to my bed and draw the curtains. You will remain there until I come to find you. Do not speak to any of the other boys, and certainly do not touch those letters." He reached out the bloodied hand, gripping her chin with it. She held firm, unwilling to show any kind of weakness. "Pretend as though you don't even recall reading them. Now go, I have a few more things to attend to before I join you."

He beckoned her off once more, and she brushed past him to exit the bathroom. She hardly paid any of the boys outside a thought as she walked to Draco's bed as usual and sat down, using her wand to draw the curtains in. Vaguely, she thought she noted blood on Goyle's face as well, but for now there was no one to question. Sometime, he would have to answer her questions.

* * *

Winter break came quickly. She didn't get the opportunity to speak to anyone save Luna- and those occasions were rare. At one point she had attempted again to speak to the blonde about the letters, but Crabbe and Zabini walked into the bedroom and he had physically hit her. Later that night, when the curtains were drawn and soundproof, he had apologized and kissed her skin too many times to count. It was another one of those curiosities about Malfoy that she couldn't figure out. But with break starting tomorrow, that meant that she would have to return to Malfoy Manor again. With any luck, Voldemort would be irritated with her rebellious nature and just kill her. Perhaps death would be easier than facing the almost concerned looks Ginny and the others now threw her way in the hallways- the looks that made Malfoy fume. If they were so concerned, then why wouldn't they help her?

Since her discovery, Malfoy had moved the letters elsewhere, or perhaps had burned them all together. She had looked many times for them, having once been caught by Zabini. Despite the cruel exterior he fronted, the boy was actually fairly calm. He told Malfoy nothing of the discovery, saying something about _not wanting to hurt him more. _But why would telling Malfoy about her disobedience cause him any harm?

For the second time in her life, she did not ride with her friends on the train ride. Rather, she found herself in a lonely compartment with Malfoy, barred from everyone else. She expected a lecture about how to act when they returned to his home, but today he was oddly silent. The majority of the train ride had passed in peace before he ever uttered anything.

"Look at me."

She did, and her eyes locked with those silver pools she was so familiar with. Silver pools that delve into her soul and seemingly unlocked her secrets with a few words. He had broken her spirit on more than one occasion, and under that gaze she could only look back. Malfoy leaned forward, his hand once again flawless. She never did discover exactly what led to the mess of blood on his skin, only that it had been caused by some sort of disturbance amongst the occupants of the dorm.

"You're unhappy."

"Could you be any more obvious Malfoy," she snapped, crossing her arms. He continued to watch her, looking for some sort of break in her composure.

"I can't make you happy," he continued, causing her to frown. Why ever would he care if he could make her happy or not? "I realized that long ago, pet." Hermione cringed at the nickname, but said nothing. He was in deep thought about something.

She watched him reach into a pocket, withdrawing a single ticket. "You can't leave the train with me and ride home in my car- far too many questions will be asked. Enough have been asked since your house relocation. Follow the directions on the paper and it will take you to your own ride, which will take you to your destination." He stood, tossing the slips of paper carelessly at her. "I must go and prepare for my own departure, and you will do the same. Follow the instructions _exactly_, and do not question them."

"If you say so," she deadpanned, looking out the window once more. When he did not move on, she glanced up.

"Stand."

The brunette did so, sliding the papers into a pocket of her jeans- a risky clothing item to wear in the presence of Death Eater's. She expected him to rattle off something else she didn't care about, but instead he surprised her entirely. Pale arms wrapped around her torso, dragging her into his lean frame. Surprised, she stood rod still until he let go. And when he pulled back, he was again studying her eyes.

"Be safe on your journey Mudblood. I will come looking for you when I can." With those haunting words, he turned and left her alone.

Now, she was more confused than ever. This ride was taking her to the Manor, right? So why would he need to come and fetch her?

_What are you playing at Malfoy?_

* * *

Following his bloody instructions, Hermione found the car. The driver gave no name when she asked, and reclining against the seat she could only wonder about what that meant. For all she knew, Mafloy could be sending her to die, and she was walking right into the trap. But then, she had been thinking about what a joy death would be only hours ago.

The path they followed was not one she herself was familiar with. She couldn't fathom why the roads they traveled were so lively, when the Manor was nothing but a looming, dark form in a barren land. They didn't appear to be driving in the right direction at all, and at some point she asked where they were going. When she was given no answer, she began to think about leaving, until she remembered the bastard's demands to stay.

A few minutes later, they pulled off and parked.

"Out," the driver demanded, pointing to the small establishment they were in front of. Concerned, she checked that her wand was within reach and stepped out, her luggage jumping from the trunk to set itself on the curb. A moment later, he sped away.

_Well, that's pleasant. _

"You look afraid," someone said, causing her to jump. Caught off guard by the voice, her head whipped around, recognizing it without needing to look.

"Luna," she asked, thrown now. Why would Malfoy direct her to her friends of all people? Looking around, she wondered if anyone else was there. "What-"

She hurried over, blonde hair swinging behind her. "You look confused," she noted, glancing the girl up and down. For Hermione, things were happening too fast. One moment she was wondering just what kind of game this was, and the next Luna is appearing from nowhere? She couldn't decide what kind of insanity levels Malfoy had to have developed to have sent her right back to her friends.

"Luna… what am I doing here?"

But the girl just smiled, taking both of Hermione's hands. "He wasn't as bad as we all thought."

"What do you mean," she asked hesitantly, glancing around. She thought she spotted red hair in one of the above windows, but couldn't be sure. Just who else was there?

Luna reached out, snatching up the brunette's hands. Here stood the only person who hadn't ever judged her for the side she _'chose'_; here was the one person she could currently consider an honest friend.

"Malfoy sent you here. You may never have seen it, and Harry may have had to talk him into it, but he cared for you more than he let on. He sent you back to us, even though it went against his commands."

Hermione let go then, taking a step back. If what she said was true, then Malfoy's strange words the last few weeks suddenly made sense. Even some of his contradicting actions became clear, and she supposed she could _consider _that the twit had perhaps cared for her. Perhaps his uncharacteristic actions went beyond protecting his property and extended to protecting someone he cared about. Looking around, a question swept through her mind.

"Where is he then? He was so concerned about losing me all this time; he wouldn't send me here unless he intended to come with."

But the blonde just shook her head, and past the swirling waves Hermione spotted a head of raven hair she had been thinking about lately- Harry. "He didn't come with; he didn't want to."

And to this, she had nothing to say. All those times laying beneath thin blankets near naked with the prat would not be easily dropped. He referred to her in too possessive of a way, and took too much care with her body for things to just abruptly end. Although she did not see his aristocratic form hurrying towards her in a form of greeting, she could not believe for a moment that he had decided to let her go with no strings attached. As her crush Ronald swept her up into a hug, Malfoy's words replayed clearly in her head.

_I will come looking for you when I can._


	4. Chapter 4

**A/n:** Yup, I wrote a fourth part. A lot of people thought it seemed incomplete and I went ahead and added this bit on. I like it, and it'll probably be the last update. There's a minimal chance that a fifth part will come, but I'm quite happy with the ending now and hopefully the requester is as well. You don't need to read this chapter though if you liked the ending that came with chapter three. Thanks to my beta **JDeppIsMyLovely**!

* * *

Time passes slowly when you have little to do. Concerned with her safety and what Draco Malfoy would do if he found her during the War, Hermione found herself locked away from more of the battle than she preferred, taking up the job of a Healer. It was not ideal, it was not wanted, but she never complained.

She didn't want to see him either.

It was during the night sometimes that her memories of her time with him surged through the intricately made barrier she had constructed and the memories haunted her again. It was on those nights that she expected the strong arms of a pale boy to tighten around her, to whisper quiet nothings in her ear that she never wanted to hear, but those things never came. She no longer slept in his bed, and his body did not suffocate hers. And for some reason, she now found sleep lonely.

And over the next year, she never forgot his chilling words, nor his unusual reactions. She never forgot his possessive nature, nor the feel of his toned front against her back. She never forgot the gentle way he handled her nor the way that he seemed to take special care in her overall wellbeing. Try as she may, she couldn't quite forget him.

But the opportunity to see him didn't arise in the chambers of the Healers. Bound to work with the wounded, she never saw the battlefield. For this she was thankful, and angry. She wanted to fight, to stand by her friends' side, but she did not want to have him holding her down again if he found her. And at the same time, she wanted to see him and show him just how well she could stand on her own two feet.

No one would let her see war though. There were fears, complications and worries surrounding her that kept her hidden. And when Voldemort finally fell, she learned what happened to her Master.

And she was going to go see him. Ministry bars kept him at bay, and as the Aurors removed the dangerous Death Eater's from official positions, she felt no need to fear the guards. These were people she knew, they were her friends, and the prat would not be granted the ability to harm her. Or at least she hoped.

"Draco Malfoy," she said boldly, when she finally located his cell in the dark holding room beneath the courts, "It has been many months."

"I see you can still count pet," he commented, his voice scratchy but unmistakable. She couldn't make out more than his silhouette from his place at the back of the cell, but she expected that he no longer looked so very mighty. "It has been over a year in fact since we last spoke."

"That would be your doing," she bit out. "You're the one that returned me to my friends, although why still remains a mystery."

She heard him shift, but he did not move forward. "It should be obvious pet; it should've always been obvious."

Hermione scoffed, crossing her arms. She had been away from him for a long time, and with a wand in hand she had no reason to fear him. He was in the vulnerable position now, not her, and she would make sure he knew it. "Don't play games Malfoy, you have played enough. I did not come here for entertainment purposes."

"Then why are you here, love? I expected Potter, Weasley, maybe the Weaselette, but never you. I expected that you would never want to see me again."

"And you would be correct," she replied, not losing an ounce of composure. "I should be far away from this cell, from this place, celebrating. I shouldn't care about you, about whether you lived or died. The day you released me from your hands should've been the last day I thought about you, but these things are not true." She crouched in front of the cell, attempting to guess where his eye level was. "I have thought of you."

Finally, she got a rise from the man. His silhouette adjusted, shifting and moving until he stood at his full height. She stood as well as the figure moved forward, coming towards her. Again, she was most thankful for the protection the enchanted bars offered.

"And why have you thought of me pet," he rasped when he was finally in front of her. "If I recall, you did not care for me, ever."

"And I still don't," she replied evenly, looking up into the shadowed grey eyes. He looked hollow, like he had been mistreated, but she did not let her mind wonder about that. "I don't care about you, for you took me against my will and enslaved me for your master."

"I took you because they were my orders," he spat, fisting the bars. She could hear the simmering of his skin as the enchanted medal burnt his flesh, but he did not remove his hands. "You were mine to watch, and mine to break. You're lucky you were my pet and not another's, for I did not take the most reckless paths to draw information from you."

"You could've," she countered, narrowing her eyes. "You had no reason to be gentle towards me, nor did you need to sleep at my side without pushing for more. I don't know why you weren't the utter bastard you could've been, but that chance is past." She leaned in. "You're the pet now Malfoy, only I doubt anyone will take pity on your soul."

He laughed hollowly, finally releasing the bars. She cringed as the torchlight caught his hands, illuminating the burnt flesh. "You're right pet, no one will be gentle to me." He turned away, brushing burnt hands through his hair. "I would not expect it. I have bought my place in Azkaban."

"I'm sure your father is very proud. You played the part of a puppet perfectly, and now you will pay the price with your freedom. The Ministry will take away your freedom just as you took away mine."

He glanced back over his shoulder then. "Is that why you are here? Have you come to remind me that after my trial my life is over? Even if I don't receive the Kiss, I doubt I will get a sentence with parole. I will likely rot away in that prison."

"And you will deserve it for all the people you tortured and killed," she whispered.

Draco spun all the way around then, slamming back against the bars. "You think I'm a monster Granger? You think I deserve to rot in a place built to conceal retched animals? Do not forget that I got you freedom at the price of my own safety. I gave you a loophole out of my grip and back to your fucking friends." He reached out to jab a finger at her, but the spells on the entrance caught this motion and zapped him back into the cell and away from the bars with a powerful jolt. He fell on his back.

"I recall this, but I also recall your crude words. I recall you reorganizing my entire life so you could watch me at every moment like a possessed pig. You made me lie with you in this horrid state of undress each night to appease whatever sick needs you had, and then you cast me away. Do not spew me lies of having actual compassion, for I will not buy it. I don't care anymore what your exact reasons are for letting me go; I just want you to feel the way I did."

"And how did you feel pet," he growled.

She stood to her full height then, squaring her shoulders as she spoke. "Powerless, and alone; that's how you're going to feel Malfoy, when your ties to everyone are severed. You're going to feel like no one cares- like you're helpless. And in Azkaban, there will be no one to turn to."

"I don't need anyone," he spat. "There's no one who will help me anyways, Granger."

To this, she could only smile. "Then I suppose you are in just as tight of a situation as I was. How does it feel Malfoy," she asked, leaning in close, "To know that your life is no longer something you can control?"

He didn't reply, simply spun away. She smiled lightly at this, but it didn't quite reach her heart. The joy she should've felt at knowing that he was suffering never came, and as she slowly backed away from the bars dread swept through her; what did he mean by _no one will help_?

She didn't wait for a response on his part, and instead turned and hurried away. Coming down to visit him before his trial was simply to set her mind at ease that he was paying for what he had done, but thus far she felt nothing but dread. Why did his situation get to her, when he had done retched things to her when things were flipped? She didn't quite understand her concern, but it unnerved her. A monster like him didn't need her pity, nor did she believe that he would want it.

As she climbed the stairs back to the main level, words from over a year ago rang in her head. She shivered at the memory, but looking back now she had a difficult time believing there was truth in them anymore. Brushing the Auror's off, she took a seat in a nearby chair, his words echoing back at her.

_"I don't have to always hurt you pet. Why do you put yourself through this?"_

_"If they are smart, they shall mind their eyes."_

_I will come looking for you when I can._

* * *

She tried to leave the facility, she really did. But constantly she was drawn to the unanswered questions he left in his wake, and that was how she found herself in the back stands of the empty trial room. No one bothered to come, for everyone had already pegged how this trial would go; he would receive life in Azkaban hands down. Obviously no one thought anything else was an option.

It was sad to see how little people cared for this rich man. He was a terrible person, but Malfoy had known many people in his time on earth, and she expected more people to appear. Across the room she could see Blaise Zabini sitting alone- the prick escaped Azkaban when it was revealed that he actually had very little involvement in the war as an actual Death Eater- and expected that he would be quite lonely when the blonde was sent away. Crabbe was killed in battle and Goyle had already been sentenced to life in prison, and she knew that without Malfoy he would be left friendless. She couldn't quite pity him though, for he had looked on at her with the same hungry eyes as Crabbe and Goyle just over a year before. His involvement with Voldemort might be limited, but she was certain he still had a heart and mind as black as stone. He would suffer in loneliness, the same with Malfoy.

She nearly missed what the decision was when the judge announced it. So lost in her thoughts, she had been able to block out the lengthy list presented to the audience of all the retched things Malfoy had done in the last two years. Hermione had to blink several times to make sure she was hearing right.

_Only thirty years to life? I expected life without parole. _

Swiveling her head around, she caught the edges of a cloak disappearing through the entranceway. Who else had appeared while she thought of the people who once watched her be harmed? What had she missed during the short trial, lost in her own thoughts.

_They must've had a large influence, else the verdict would probably be what I already predicted. _

She stood as the criminal was led away, hurrying down the steps to try and catch him. She wasn't entirely sure that the Auror's would let her speak to him at this point, but she could at least try.

"Excuse me," she called, only to be stopped by an unfamiliar Auror at the bottom step. She took a moment to watch Malfoy's blonde head disappear from sight before addressing him. "I just need to speak to him-"

"Don't bother trying to negotiate with this lot Granger," a voice called, interrupting her. Her blood ran cold at the familiar voice, and as she tore her eyes away from the guard she looked up to see the rich Italian walking towards her.

"Thanks for the advice Zabini," she snapped, "But I can handle myself thank you." She turned away from his advancing figure without a second thought and resumed her conversation. "I'm sorry, I just need to speak with Malfoy-"

"I'm sorry Miss Granger," the man said, obviously more familiar with her than she was with him, "But no one is permitted to speak with the sentenced once they are taken into the back. Unless you are family or have a Ministry note to do so, we are prohibited from accepting visitors at this point." He glanced between the pair. "I'm sorry."

To say she was irritated would be a understatement. No matter how much she persisted, the young man would not let her pass. When she turned away to leave the courtroom as people filed in for the next hearing, Blaise was still there.

"What do you want," she huffed as he fell into step beside her. "Perhaps you have been sent to finish me off since Malfoy let me go? I promise you, it'll be harder to steal me away this time."

There was no humor in his voice when he replied. "That's not funny Granger. Draco never had any intention of finishing the job."

She paused to place her hands on her hips. "Finishing the job? Well, I'm glad Malfoy's fucking morals kicked in before he killed me! I don't care what you plan to tell me about how great of a person Malfoy really was Zabini, because I don't care. You used to walk into the dorm room, you've seen the marks-"

"And they were minimal," he hissed, glancing around. "Granger, can we continue this conversation in private-"

"I'm not going anywhere we would be alone," she said flatly, rolling her eyes. "I will walk outside with you where everyone can see us and let you vent all your feelings about what a sweet person Malfoy was behind the mask, but past that I will have nothing more to do with you." She turned her nose up. "You and all the other Slytherin's have given me enough shit to deal with for a lifetime."

"Whatever you say," he hissed, beckoning for her to lead the way. She did just that, brushing past him to take the lead. People glanced their way as they left, and she was just thankful that Harry and Ron were not anywhere on the premises that day. If they were, she knew there would be no conversation at all.

Perhaps that would be better.

Outside she made her way across the street to the nearest table she could find, located outside a pleasant looking restaurant. Blaise took a seat across from her, looking quite uncomfortable with where they were.

"Does it have to be this open?"

"Well, we don't have to talk at all." He clenched his jaw and said nothing, but the action triggered something in her brain. This action was so like Malfoy as a stubborn young boy it was scary. She had not been in the presence of Blaise often despite him being a roommate of Malfoy's, and she knew little about the Italian himself. She did know that the blonde seemed to tell him more than he ever told to either of his former bodyguards, but all that was history now. The world was moving on from war, and they simply had to move along with it.

"What bullshit did you want to tell me?"

He chuckled at the sentence, finding it odd to hear her speak. She said so little in his presence before now that he was surprised she muttered anything at all. "It's not just the things I can tell you Granger. Obviously, there is interest within you concerning Draco; else you would not have been at his trial." He leaned forward in his seat, and she resisted the urge to lean away from him. "Why were you there exactly?"

"I wanted to see him be punished," she lied, crossing her arms tightly around herself. "I wanted to see him pay."

A soft smile graced the Italian's features. "You're lying."

"I am not."

"Granger, someone who simply wants to see another pay would not go to a boring trial like that. Draco's fate along with everyone else prosecuted today will be announced tomorrow in the paper as always. Reading it should've brought you enough satisfaction. And someone who truly wants nothing to do with the other does not attempt for _many_ minutes to persuade an Auror to let her through. You were there for a reason today, and I'll be damned if I'll buy the story you're spewing me."

She glared. "What do you want from me exactly Zabini? Do you want a bloody confession about some ridiculous connection I formed with my abuser? Have you forgotten so easily that Malfoy tortured me each day not only for your enjoyment, but in search of information for the man he chose to follow? Malfoy attempted to turn me into a _pet_, something with which he could control, yet still hold like a lover. His mind was corrupted by the power set before him and it ate at his soul until nothing remained."

"You think he was soulless?"

"Maybe."

Zabini chuckled. "Yes, because a soulless man would let someone of your stature go. As you should know Granger, he was easy with you. He never went to the full extent of punishment that he could've; he was restrained. And on top of that, he risked his existence to get you back to your friends."

"All because he was being threatened!" She gripped the edge of the table, finally letting go of her sides. "If Luna had not discovered the truth about what was going on, no one would have ever alerted Harry and Ron of where I was! My friends thought I was a traitor all because of the web of lies he crafted to get me into the best position to control. Everything worked in his favor."

"And he gave you up," Blaise reminded again. "We were supposed to see Voldemort over that break you know. He was quite excited actually to get to interrogate you himself, and I promise he would not have been as forgiving as Draco was. All those marks and wounds he would've created would've been left open as he continued his onslaught. Draco saved you from that kind of torture."

Her eyes flashed briefly. "I was unaware that I was to see him."

"Of course you were, because he didn't want you to know. He thought if you knew what was coming you might work harder to escape, and if you went running uncontrollably around the school bad things would've happened to you." The man shrugged. "The day Draco announced that you would not be around during break was the day I stopped following the Death Eaters."

"Why," she asked, genuinely curious. A dark shadow overtook his face and she immediately knew- as was expected- that this would be a bad story.

"Voldemort was not a forgiving man," Blaise remarked flatly. "He did not have you to interrogate- to torture- and he found himself another target. He ripped Draco apart for not keeping you at his side, and when he dug through the contents of his mind and found out that he dared to let you go, well, he nearly died."

Hermione frowned, slowly taking it in. Why would Malfoy let the truth slip out? Why would he let her go free when he knew what was awaiting him. "Then he didn't do what was in his best interest, did he."

To this, Blaise only raised a hand and pointed a lone finger. "Bingo."

She closed her eyes. He wanted her to feel guilty because Malfoy had taken Voldemort's attack in her place. But she couldn't feel anything but confusion until she understood why.

"He had no reason to."

"For fuck's sake Granger, open your mind just a bit will you?" The Italian leaned back, shaking his head. "Draco is an exceptionally selfish person. He takes what he wants and doesn't care for more than a handful of people. He would've sold his job with you off if he didn't want it! But he did, and more importantly than the job he wanted _you_."

"Me?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow. Now here was something she was having a very hard time believing.

"You're blind Granger," he remarked with a sigh. "I know your situation with all of this was difficult, but you have to look at things from a wider perspective. Potter and Weasley threatened Malfoy after they figured out where you were yes, but _he_ negotiated a way to get you out, as you know by now I'm sure. He's selfish Granger; he would not do that out of the kindness of his heart, for anyone. You were special Granger, and you're not the brightest fucking witch of our age if you can't figure out why."

Her eyes closed again as the answer came to her clear as day. "He had feelings for me," she breathed quietly. "Me, of all people."

"Good job Granger, you're finally using that head of yours again." Blaise continued to shake his head. "You were the forbidden fruit he originally sought to bring down, but along the way he discovered your body, and more importantly your will. Don't for a minute believe these are things Draco told me, because they aren't. When you weren't paying attention his body language spoke wonders, and when your presence was gone his depression spoke volumes. He may have been cruel in many aspects, but in others he took the easiest paths to avoid breaking you. And in the end he let you go completely."

The brunette nodded, opening her eyes as she turned away. She had never bothered to pay attention to the signs, too happy to be rid of him and then too disturbed by his actions. In the limelight, she could nearly understand them. But not all the reasoning made sense, and perhaps it wasn't supposed to. She never really took the time to understand him while she was enslaved, because all she could think about was her horrible situation and- when it crossed her mind- how to get away.

"If Potter had not spoken at his trial the sentence would've been life-"

"What?" she asked, flipping her head around to stare at him, "Harry was there?"

The Italian laughed. "Merlin Granger, I could tell from across the courtroom that you were deep in thought but I never imagined that you would miss the arrival of your friend! His appearance shocked everyone there."

"What did he say?" She thought Harry and Ron were training as usual that day, but to learn that she had missed his presence in the court room was just unnerving. Had she really been that lost in her thoughts?

"It was brief Granger, no more than three minutes. I don't think his testimony was planned because even the judge looked startled. He just said that Malfoy might be a right bastard, but beneath the shades of grey there are margins of pink where he is soft, and does pocess a heart. Potter played on that, and only hinted that he had once helped you, though demanded quite clearly that you did not wish to be questioned. Obviously that detail was good, considering you didn't even know what was being discussed."

"Harry testified in favor of him, even after he enslaved me," she whispered, thinking that was quite the oddity. Malfoy was the reason she went missing, but he was also the reason she returned- well, partially. Did that small work of good earn him enough points to really get Harry's testimony? She wasn't sure it was worth it, but obviously her friend saw something in his former enemy.

"Potter testified because he thought there was more to Draco than a corpse, and that is exactly what he will become after a lifetime in Azkaban. Thirty years maybe enough to strip him of his person, who knows. Everyone takes the traumas of the prison differently."

"I'm aware," she said quietly.

"Good." He stood, startling her at the sudden movement. When he said nothing and turned away, she stood as well.

"That's the conversation you needed to have with me? You didn't come to any conclusions; you just told me a bunch of things!"

He raised an eyebrow. "Who say that's not what I wanted to do all along? I'm not going to change your opinion on Draco in twenty minutes, days, or years, because it's not up to me. You know what he did for you now, and why, and it is up to you what you're going to do with that knowledge." Blaise shrugged. "You have at least thirty years to think about all of it."

"Zabini-"

The Italian held up a hand. "I don't expect you to find him after all that time and tell him you love him or anything. By that time you'll probably be married to Weasley and have a handful of brats to take care of. I'm just saying that despite what a bastard he is, you might find it in your heart in thirty years to thank him for getting you out of that situation, and not taking full advantage of you. It's not like you ever knew him at all." He bowed his head. "And that, Granger, is what I wanted to discuss with you."

She let him turn this time without saying a word. As he began walking away, she muttered under her breath, "I got to know him just fine."

He paused to glance over his shoulder, a thin smile plastered on his features. His next sentence sent her mind whirling, and left her mouth dry. "You knew the lines of his body Granger, and the feel of his touch, but you knew nothing of the contents of his mind."

Thirty years would give her plenty of time to think indeed.


End file.
